


I'll Be There

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Beds, Blow Jobs, Chicken Soup, Enemies to Lovers, Fever, Hate to Love, House Cleaning, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, POV Louis, Sick Character, Smut, University Student Harry, University Student Louis, but not that sick just like a bad cold, lol i'm sorry i'll stop now, lol that there's a tag for that, now i'm just looking for weird tags sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Louis is less than thrilled to find out his roommate has coerced his nemesis to check on him whilst he's sick in bed. However, Harry seems to take great pleasure in taking care of Louis. Maybe this green smoothie drinking, hot yoga instructing, hair in a bun wearing, pretentious art history studying wanker isn’t so bad after all.On Monday, Louis thinks Harry's a twat. By Friday, he's thinking of reasons for him to stay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).
> 
> Prompt #7. "The snug feeling when you're sick in bed and everyone feels sorry for you and waits on you hand and foot."
> 
> Thank you to my beta [taggiecb](http://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb) and my Brit picker [yousopugly](http://yousopugly.tumblr.com/) ! More thanks to you both at the end. xx
> 
> Title comes from the song "I'll Be There" by The Jackson Five

 

 

**///Monday///**

“Niallerrrrrr. Can’t believe you’re leaving me like this.” Louis moans from his sick bed.

“It’s only for a week, Lou.” Niall calls out.  “Gotta take care of my great-grandfather’s estate stuff. You know this.”

“Yeah, yeah.  You’re so important to Ireland. I get it. But what about me? You’re important to me, too!” He writhes about in his bed dramatically.

Niall stands in the doorway to Louis’ bedroom and laughs. “I’m only important to ya right now because you’re poorly, and you want me to do your bidding.”

Louis sniffles from beneath his duvet and reaches out for tissues to blow his nose in loudly.

“Sorry Lou, but you know it’s important. The university’s given me an entire week’s leave to do it, so I’d best take it and help get things squared away. But don’t worry, I’ve got one of me mates comin’ by to check on ya.”

Louis peeks out from beneath the duvet suspiciously. He narrows his eyes at Niall. “Who?” Based on the delighted look on Niall’s face, he already knows the answer. He groans. “If I weren’t on my death bed, I would get up and kick you in the shins.”

“Aw, come on, Lou. Don’t know why you hate him so much. Harry’s bloody great, really. And besides, he’s the only one I could get to agree to come check on you.”

“Zayn?” Louis asks hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Liam?”

“No one wants to get sick, Lou.”

“My friends are the worst.” Louis grumbles.

“Which is why you’re stuck with one of mine, mate. You’re putting up a fuss, but I know you don’t actually hate Harry.”

Louis snorts as best he can whilst his nose is all stuffy. “Don’t know why you think my hatred of that green smoothie drinking, hot yoga instructing, hair in a bun wearing, pretentious art history studying wanker isn’t genuine.”

“Because when you’re drunk you like to talk about his dimples.”

“I DO NOT.”

“You do so. And when you’re really drunk you talk about his tattoos. And his muscles. Once when we played that Irish drinking game you told me his eyes were green pools of heaven.”

“Shut up. GET OUT.”

“Fine, I will, actually. Gotta get going. Feel better soon, Lou!” Niall cackles from the doorway. “And play nice with Harry!”

///

Louis sleeps away most of the day. He really does feel ill. He wakes up to the sound of the door to their flat closing. Harry. He burrows under the duvet, facing away from the door. There’s a quiet knock at his bedroom door even though it’s been purposely left open.

He hears Harry clear his throat when he doesn’t respond to the knock. And then a quiet, “Louis?”

He stays still beneath the blankets. Maybe if he doesn’t move, Harry will just think he’s died and leave. He listens intently, holding his breath, when suddenly the duvet is yanked back, and he lets out a very loud, embarrassing squeal.

He looks up at Harry, standing next to his bed and grinning like a maniac.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me? I’m poorly!” He exclaims as he frantically tries to cover himself back up with the duvet. He’s only wearing his pants and an old t-shirt for fuck’s sake. He thinks Harry might have taken an extra look at his bum. “And stop ogling me when I’m ill.”

“You wish.” Harry snorts. “Just checking to make sure you were still alive.”

“Well, I am so you can just leave and go do some yoga somewhere or eat wildflowers or summat.” Louis mumbles from beneath the duvet.

Harry barks out a laugh. “Wildflowers?”

“Or whatever you healthy types eat. Fresh pressed juices. Butter coffee.”

“Butter coffee?”

“Yeah, don’t you all blend up coffee with butter?”

“Ohhh. Bullet coffee.”

Louis sits up. “Well, I don’t know all your hipster terms. Not a hipster, me.” Louis remembers he probably looks like death warmed over, so he dives back beneath the blankets.

“I’ve brought you some tins of soup. And some orange juice.”

Louis grunts in acknowledgement.

Harry sighs. “Do you want me to heat the soup for you?”

Louis peeks at him through a small opening he creates in the duvet. He sees Harry hide a smile when he notices Louis peeking at him. “Maybe.” Louis calls out softly.

He hears Harry’s boots start clicking away from him. “Also, pour me some juice as well.” He calls out a bit louder. He hears the boots stop, so he’s fairly sure he’s been heard. He hears a lot of cupboard doors being open and shut as Harry must try to find the necessary things to heat up the soup. He drifts off for a bit and jolts awake when he hears Harry come back into the room. He peeks out and sees Harry carrying a tray he didn’t even know they owned with a bowl of soup, steam rising off the top, and a large glass of orange juice. Louis sits up to receive his tray, and he can’t help but smile grandly at being taken care of. He loves this shit. Even if it is _Harry_ doing the caretaking. Harry hasn’t handed over the tray yet though. He’s looking at Louis a bit stunned. Louis frowns.

“Hand over the tray, Styles.”

“Right. Sorry.” He places the tray on Louis’ lap. He has to bend down quite close to him, and Louis can smell the traces of his aftershave. He’s surprised he can smell anything with this illness. Probably some expensive organic blend. Whatever. It kind of smells nice. He takes an extra sniff and pretends he’s trying to smell the soup.

“It’s just chicken and vegetable from a tin, I’m afraid. I didn’t have time to make you some homemade.”

Louis looks up at him incredulously. “You were gonna make me homemade soup?”

“Well, Niall just phoned me this morning, and I had lectures all day. But yes, I normally make soup for my fr—for people when they’re poorly. Anyway, anything else I can get you before I go?”

Louis frowns. “No. This is—fine.” He tries to force a thank you to cross his lips. He knows Harry deserves one.

He looks up to see Harry grinning at him. Stupid dimples. “Don’t strain yourself Louis. You’re welcome.” The smile turns into a sideways smirk that does funny things to Louis’ stomach. Or maybe he’s got a touch of a stomach bug as well. That must be it.

**///Tuesday///**

Louis is having a terrible nightmare. He’s in a desert, the hot sun beating down on him. Suddenly a snake grabs hold of his ankle, and he begins thrashing against the huge reptilian monster. Oh my god, it’s speaking his name.

“Louis? Louis! LOUIS!”

He wakes to Harry shaking his shoulders. Harry is a bit blurry, but Louis can tell he looks a bit upset about something.

“Fuck, Louis. I think you have a fever. You’re soaked with sweat. I’m going to go get you something, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis croaks out. He flops back on the bed.

Harry comes back moments later and props him up with a few pillows and hands him a glass of water and some paracetamol. “You’re worse today.” He scolds as though it were somehow Louis’ fault. “I’ve brought you some of my homemade soup though.”

“Is it organic?” Louis asks, his voice scratchy.

Harry smiles. “Actually, yes. Organic chicken and vegetables.”

“Take it away. Want mine with extra pesticides.”

Harry barks out a laugh before he quickly covers his mouth as though to take it back. “You’d really be missing out, Lou.”

 _Did Harry just call him Lou? Or is it the fever talking?_ Louis wonders.

“I’ve been told I’m an excellent cook actually.” Harry continues. “In fact, I used to be a b—“

“Alright, alright. Bring me the soup whilst I’m still too feverish to protest.”

“You protested plenty, but whatever.” Harry grumbles as he exits the room.

“And bring me some more of that posh orange juice from yesterday! The kind with all the bits of orange in it.” Louis calls out after him. “I haven’t had anything to eat or drink yet. Well, except for this water you just brought me.”

Harry abruptly turns on his heel. “You what? Louis! No wonder you feel so terribly! I—“

“Can you lecture me after I’ve had something more to drink and eat?” Louis pouts his lips and bats his eyelashes.

Harry stares at him a bit dazed at first. “I—yes—what—?”

This pouty look always works. He’s still got it. Even with a fever.

“Will you please bring me some orange juice now?”

“Right. Orange juice. Yes.” Harry stumbles and rights himself as he backs out of the room. Louis flops back down on the bed. Harry eventually returns with the tray from yesterday, balancing a bowl of soup and a glass of orange juice as well as a small bowl of cut fruit. Louis makes a face at it.

Apparently, Harry can tell he isn’t thrilled by the fruit. “The fruit is good for healing, Lou, lots of vitamin C.” So this ‘Lou’ thing is a _thing_ now. Okay then.

Harry is frowning at him now. He rolls his eyes and eats a strawberry. “I have to go to lectures, but I can come back right afterwards.”

“Oh. You don’t have to—“

“Well, you have no one else to look after you, Louis. I need to keep an eye on your fever at the very least. So yes, I _do_ have to. I’ll see you after my seminar.”

**///Wednesday///**

Louis wakes up feeling loads better. Definitely not one hundred percent though. Harry said he’d be by before lectures to make sure he has breakfast, so Louis quickly gets up and brushes his teeth and tries to fix his hair a bit. He puts on a clean t-shirt and pants and dives back into the bed when he hears the door click open.

He tries not to think about why he just styled his hair. It’s nothing. He just didn’t want Harry seeing him at his worst. Can’t let your enemies have fodder against you after all. He closes his eyes and feigns sleep.

“Lou?” Harry says quietly from his bedside. “Are you awake?”

“Hmmm?” Louis asks sleepily. He yawns and stretches his arms. “Am up now. Yeah.”

“Are you feeling any better?

“A little.” Louis says gravely.

“Well, I thought I’d just make you some tea and toast for breakfast if you’d like.”

Louis sighs heavily. “I suppose. Probably all I can keep down anyway.”

“Why? Are you vomiting now? Why didn’t you say so? We should probably go to hospital if you’re feeling worse.”

“No! No. Don’t do that. My stomach’s just a bit—unsettled is all.”

“Okay.” Harry says warily. He pops back in a moment later. “It looks like you only have Yorkshire tea, so I made you that. When I come back later, though, I’ll make you some using my own special herbal blend.”

Louis pulls a face. “Herbal blend? No thanks. Stick with Yorkshire if that’s okay.”

“Well, seeing as you’re still bedridden. You’ll get what you get.” Harry smiles at him serenely. “I’ll even put organic honey and lemon in it!”

Louis shudders.

///

As soon as Harry is gone, he plays Xbox in the living room for a while and eats some leftover pizza that was in the fridge. When it gets near the time for Harry to return, he gets back in bed and scrolls through Instagram. Harry’s is full of artsy black and white photographs. No selfies. Louis rolls his eyes.

When Harry comes in, he busies himself with a tray of bland food and herbal tea for Louis. “Good news!”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve got no more contact hours today, so I can stay here and take care of you for the rest of the day!” Harry looks strangely pleased to be staying at Louis’ sick bed. He arranges the tray and fluffs Louis’ pillows a bit, so he can sit up straighter. Then, he pulls a laptop out of his bag and sets it up on Louis’ messy desk. “I’ll just get some work done whilst you rest.”

“Ehm. You can move all that stuff off the desk if you want. No clue what all those papers are. Probably not important.”

Harry begins gathering a few into a pile. “Louis this one is information on your portfolio!” Harry starts organizing the papers into piles and finds a binder somewhere and starts filing them away. Louis plays games on his phone for a bit. It’s a little unnerving to have Harry in his bedroom, but he doesn’t really feel like it would be polite to send him away, not when he’s been so nice about everything. Also, Louis would really like him to stay. He decides not to think about that too much.

Harry decides to take a break to do Louis’ laundry. He also hoovers the entire flat and does all the dishes. He comes back in periodically to check on him and bring him tea and juice and tissues. When most of the chores are done, Harry comes back into Louis’ bedroom and insists that they both get some of their uni work done. Louis looks through the papers from his desk that Harry has now organized for him, and he reluctantly looks up a few more things for his portfolio. He takes more than a few glances at Harry perched at his desk, typing away madly on his laptop. His hair is up in a bun since he was doing housework. Stray tendrils cling to his neck. Harry’s Rolling Stones t-shirt is a bit short on his long torso, riding up a bit in back as he sits. Louis stares at the visible skin there until Harry shifts in his seat and breaks the daze he was in. Harry coughs and Louis’ eyes dart up to his face only to see Harry looking back at him with a smirk. He’s been caught staring. Damn it. He quickly averts his gaze back to his laptop. Stupid fit Harry.

After about an hour Harry groans as he stands up from the desk. “Shouldn’t have sat in one position so long.” He stretches his arms high into the air. His shirt rides up enough to expose tattoos across his lower stomach. Jesus. Louis feels his dick give a decidedly interested twitch. Harry twists his body back and forth stretching out his back, and Louis is mesmerized by the taut muscles of his biceps that bulge as he stretches and flexes. He has to hold back a whimper, which is when he thinks to look at Harry’s face. Harry is watching him, an irritating smile on his face. Smug bastard. Louis sniffs and looks back at his portfolio.

Harry makes him dinner and then stands at the end of his bed.

“Yes?”

“Well, I’ll be off then. If you don’t need anything else.”

“Oh. Umm…” Louis looks around to see if he can think of anything else Harry can take care of for him.

A grin spreads across Harry’s face. “Are you actually trying to think of reasons for me to stay, Lou?”

“What?” Louis makes a rude farting noise. “No. Conceited, much?”

“Well, I’ll be by to check on you tomorrow as well. If you’re still sick anyway. Here—“ He takes Louis’ phone out of his hand and texts himself. “Now you’ll have my number if you need anything. Or if you’re feeling better, I guess you can tell me not to come.”

Harry hands back the phone. He’s got Harry’s phone number. Okay. That’s fine. Whatever.

“If you still need me tomorrow that’s fine though. I can come by before and after my lectures.”

Louis does a few fake coughs. It’s not that he really wants Harry to come over. It’s just that he likes being taken care of. That’s really all it is.

**///Thursday///**

Louis oversleeps, and Harry’s arrival is what actually wakes him. Damn. Not really at his best here. He sits up in bed blearily rubbing his eyes. He’s sure his hair is probably hopelessly rumpled. On the bright side he feels perfectly healthy. When he looks up, it’s into Harry’s wide green gaze.

“I—you—sorry—did I wake you?—You look—“ Harry clears his throat a few times.

Louis frowns at him. “Are you getting sick now, too?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. You just look—I’m fine.”

“Okayyyy.”

Harry flees from the room, leaving Louis a bit puzzled. He hears him making tea though, so that’s alright then. He suddenly remembers why he overslept. He’d played FIFA until late into the night trying to stop himself from thinking about Harry’s tattoos and fit body. He couldn’t live with himself knowing he’d wanked over Harry Styles of all people.

Harry doesn’t stay long. Just props up Louis’ pillows and brings him tea and his uni work before promising to return after his lectures later in the day. Louis doesn’t mention that he doesn’t feel poorly anymore.

He stays in bed another hour or so before he gets up to watch rubbish telly in the living room. He hears his phone buzz with a text and he jumps up to go unplug it from its charger. He feels a wave of disappointment to see it’s just Niall. Fuck. He’d thought it was Harry. What the fuck is wrong with him?

_N: How you feeling Tommo ?_

Clearly, he must still be ill to be thinking this way.

_L: I’ve been better mate_

_N: Still poorly ?? Hope Harry is taking good care of you !_

Louis frowns at the text.

_L: Yeah. I guess._

_N: are you being nice at least?_

_L: I’m always nice_

_N: Harry says he thinks you like having him over all the time_

_L: that conceited wanker would think that_

_N: are you saying you don’t? Harry thinks you like him better than you let on_

Louis tosses the phone onto the sofa. He doesn’t bother answering Niall when he’s talking utter rubbish like that. He paces around the room only half listening to Loose Women in the background. Of course he likes having Harry around to do his bidding. And really, so what if he thinks Harry’s a bit fit as well? He’s pretty sure Harry thinks the same about him anyway.

He decides to take a long shower and think about how to best get revenge, but instead he wraps his hand around himself, sliding in firm strokes to the thought of Harry’s tattoos. And Harry’s lips. And muscles and hair and—fuck. He strokes harder and faster imagining Harry’s large hands wrapped around his cock instead. He comes with Harry’s name on his lips.

Damn it.

This is war now.

He styles his hair into an artfully messy style. It’s a bit long at the moment, and one strand curls nicely over his cheek. He puts on a tight, sheer black t-shirt, his own tattoos nicely displayed in it. He digs through his drawers until he finds a pair of tight black boxer briefs. He makes his bed and lies on top of it. When he hears Harry come in, he’ll pose seductively until he has Harry right where he wants him, panting after him. Except he gets bored waiting for him and curls up and falls asleep. He wakes up to the sound of an odd strangled noise. His back is to his doorway, and he’s curled his body around a pillow. He glances over his shoulder and sees Harry frozen in the doorway. So much for posing. He yawns and sprawls across the bed, stretching. Harry makes another odd noise. Huh. He looks at him curiously, but Harry is averting his eyes now.

“Hi? I’ve brought you dinner?”

“Why are you making that sound like a question?”

Harry’s cheeks are flushed pink. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well. I’m feeling a bit better so why don’t we just eat in the kitchen then?” Louis climbs out of bed and brushes past Harry who makes yet another strangled noise and stumbles along behind him. Louis’ pretty sure he’s enjoying the view.

Harry seems to gather himself, and he asks about how Louis’ portfolio is coming along. They chat a bit in between bites of the amazing chicken dish Harry’s brought over. Chicken, sweet potato, apple, cinnamon. Louis is a bit surprised by how much he likes it. Not that he tells Harry this. Harry abruptly stops talking, causing Louis to look at him. He seems to be staring at Louis’ chest. Well, this is definitely working.

“See something you like, Styles?”

“What? I—no? Yes? Um, I like your shirt?”

“Oh really? My shirt?”

“Yeah, I can see your tattoo through it.” Harry blurts out. He claps a hand over his mouth. “Ehm, I meant to say that’s a cool tattoo.”

Louis raises an eyebrow.

“Oh shut up.” Harry says.

“I didn’t say anything though.”

“Know what you’re thinking.” Harry mumbles as he stuffs a bite of chicken in his mouth.

“Oh, you know me so well, do you?”

Harry stares down at his food and doesn’t really make conversation again. He starts clearing away the dishes as soon as Louis takes his last bite. He’s washing them quickly as though he’s in a hurry. Louis just watches him from his seat at the table.

“So you seem like you’re feeling a lot better.” Harry begins. “Thought you probably don’t need me hanging around here now that you’re better. I’ll just finish these up and be out of your way.”

This was not part of the plan at all. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m _that_ much better. I mean, I tried to get up and do a few things this morning, but then I ended up just falling asleep—“

“Half-dressed.” Harry murmurs.

“What?”

“Nothing. But ehm, I can stay a bit longer if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I think maybe you should. Just as a precaution.”

He hears Harry’s sigh and wonders if he’s got this all wrong. Either way though, he’s now decided he doesn’t want Harry to go, and god help him, he actually enjoys Harry’s company. “What if we played a board game?”

“Like what?”

“Ummm…like whatever Niall’s got in his closet?”

Harry snorts, but then tells Louis to go rest on the sofa whilst he looks for the board games in Niall’s closet. He comes back in triumphantly hoisting an old beat up box that says Scrabble on the side. “Really? You want to challenge an English student to Scrabble? Bring it.”

After Louis makes the words “twat,” “balls,” “bum,” “arse,” and “willy,” Harry seems to realise he’s not playing to win. Harry finishes off the game with the word “penis” apparently to show he’s a good sport. They lay back on the couch, laughing. “What now? Or would you rather just rest?”

“No, no. Not getting off that easy, Styles. Go put in a movie. I’ll even let you decide which one.”

Harry ends up putting on Amelie. “My sister, Lottie, gave me this movie, actually. So you know, didn’t buy it myself or summat.”

“Sure, Lou.” Harry pats the seat next to him and opens an arm towards him and says, “Care for a cuddle?”

Louis doesn’t answer, but really, who says no to a cuddle? Not him. He squeezes in under Harry’s arm and tries to watch the film. He’s so comfortable though, snuggled against Harry’s warm body. He drifts off somewhere in the middle of it. He wakes up only when Harry shifts in his spot on the sofa. The movie appears to be over, and he sees he may have drooled a tiny bit on Harry’s shirt as it looks as though he’s been pressing his face to Harry’s chest. He decides not to say anything about that though.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Should probably get going.”

Louis groggily stands and starts stumbling towards his bed. He face plants onto it and calls out, “See you in the morning, Harry.”

Harry must have followed him because he sounds quite nearby, although Louis doesn’t bother to open his eyes to check. “If you think you’ll need me, I’ll be there.”

**///Friday///**

When Louis wakes up, he sees he’s got a text from Harry.

            _H: Hope you are feeling well. I have an early seminar on Friday. Will stop by after that if you still think you need me_

Louis quickly texts back.

            _L: yeah think I’m having a relapse_

Louis isn’t sure when Harry will be by, but he is guessing Harry has a nine o’clock seminar, so that gives him just enough time to sneak off to McDonald’s for breakfast and come back and shower. He’s styling his hair to make it look disheveled. He hopes he’s passing it off for bedhead. When he walks back into the bedroom, he has an idea. He wonders briefly if it’s going too far, but then he banishes the thought. He’s the go big or go home type after all. He rifles through his pants and finds what he’s looking for, a pair of small, tight, red boxer briefs. They’re barely boxer briefs though as he bought them too small, so they barely cover his bum. They’re perfect.

Since he’s decided to forgo subtlety, he just doesn’t bother to wear a shirt at all. He lays on his front propped up by his elbows as he scrolls through his social media and instigates arguments with Liam on Whatsapp.

He hears when Harry comes into the flat. It sounds as though he was going to make tea, but then changes his mind and comes into Louis’ bedroom. Louis doesn’t look up from his phone, but he knows Harry is standing stock still in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks hoarsely.

“Just playing a game on my phone.” He shifts to stick his bum out a bit more. He can hear the stifled moan from the doorway.

“Are you feeling better then because I found McDonald’s wrappers in your kitchen when just this morning you texted that you were having a relapse.”

“Feeling loads better. I was feeling better yesterday though. And the day before that, too. Was just using you for free labour.”

“Is that right?” Harry’s voice deepens and it sends a shiver through Louis. “Well, maybe I’d like some payment then. Not for all the labour, but I’d like to be compensated for the torture.”

“What torture? Bit dramatic, mate.”

“You’re lying on your bed in the smallest red pants I’ve ever seen!”

Louis wiggles his bum.

Harry bites out a strangled noise. “You just did that on purpose! Definitely torture.”

“How exactly would you like payment?”

“God help me, I just want a taste.” He crawls over Louis, his arms bracketing Louis’ hips, before he bites down on one cheek.

“Hey! You said a taste, not a bite! Wanker.”

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Harry says as he presses kisses up Louis’ spine until he reaches his shoulders. He kisses along his neck and breathes into his ear. “Been wanting you since I first laid eyes on you four years ago.”

Louis stomach flip flops at the confession.

“Your turn.” Harry says as he noses into the crook of Louis’ neck.

“My turn for what?”

“To confess how long you’ve wanted me back.”

“Oh. Since yesterday.”

“Yesterday?!” Harry laughs. He flips Louis onto his back and tickles under his rib cage. “You liar!”

“No, no! Stop!” Louis calls out in between a stream of giggles. “Fine! Fine! Since the day _before_ yesterday.”

Harry continues the onslaught of tickles until Louis calls out, “When I’m drunk, I talk obscenely about your dimples! When I’m drunk, I call your eyes green pools of heaven.”

Harry stills his fingers. “What about when you’re sober?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yes, when I’m sober, I still think about your pretty face and your fit body and your green pools of heaven.”

Harry looms over him, his hands now bracketed on either side of Harry’s shoulders, when he leans down and presses his lips to Louis’.  “You might think I’m pretty, Lou, but I think you’re beautiful. The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Louis reaches up and pulls Harry’s body down to cover his own. He wraps his fingers in Harry’s curls as he’s been wanting to do for years even if he’d never admit it. The kiss deepens, and Harry’s fingers roam his body until he is tugging Harry’s shirt over his head and frantically unzipping his tight jeans. Harry doesn’t even bother to kick his jeans all the way off before he’s got Louis’ red pants yanked down just far enough to take him in his mouth. Louis cries out and fists the sheets in his hands as Harry takes him further down his throat. Harry brings them off quickly, letting Louis buck up into his mouth as he slides his fist over his own cock until they’re both coming; Louis calls out his name when he comes, and he can see the satisfaction of that moment all over Harry’s face. Harry slides up and flops down next to Louis.

Louis expects to see Harry look at him with a smug smile, but instead he sees a hint of uncertainty.

“What are you thinking?” Harry asks him.

“I’m thinking I’m sorry I tricked you into taking care of me for the past few days.”

“I told you, Lou. If you need me, I’ll be there. Promise you don’t have to pretend to be poorly for me to come running.”

“So if I said I need you to stay in this bed with me all day—“

Harry laughs. “I’m definitely up for that.”

He peeks down at Harry’s body. “Yes, I see that you are already up for that.”

Harry barks out a loud honk of a laugh, and Louis wonders how he ever managed without it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Taggiecb, thank you as usual for all the hand holding. Just in life in general as well as fan fiction writing. xx
> 
> yousopugly, thank you for the Brit picking and betaing! Especially for helping me correct the vast number of mistakes I made about UK universities. This will probably be my first and last uni fic, so you're off the hook with that kind of fic after this! lol. xx
> 
> If you liked it, please leave kudos or comments! I love to talk to people, so come talk to me on tumblr anytime! Also, [here is the rebloggable post](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/159716286256/ill-be-there-by-allwaswell16-explicit-5k%20) if you would like to reblog it for me I will love you forever! xx


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